Miss Otis Regrets
by FauxMaven
Summary: Episode tag for 6.22, "The Hole in the Heart." Brennan finds in her heart a better parting gift for Vincent.


**Miss Otis Regrets**

A/N: _Miss Otis Regrets_ is the title of a song written by Cole Porter in 1934. The lyrics are the story of a society woman who is lynched by a vengeful mob after she shoots her unfaithful lover. Her servant offers Miss Otis' apology to an unknown friend for missing their appointment: "Miss Otis regrets she's unable to lunch today."

Many thanks to Labsquint who served as my most gracious and timely beta when I turned the tables on her without warning late Friday afternoon; it seems I forgot most of the things I regularly harp at her for. So, many thanks for holding my virtual hand while I negotiated the labyrinth of publishing a first story.

Rated: T, for situations

Disclaimer: Bones and all the characters therein are owned by FOX, Hart Hanson and Kathy Reichs.

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><p><em>Organizer, BRITISH ASSOCIATION FOR BIOLOGICAL ANTHROPOLOGY AND OSTEOARCHAEOLOGY Annual Conference 2011<br>School of History, Classics, and Archaeology  
>University of Edinburgh<br>Edinburgh, City of Edinburgh EH16 5AY Scotland_

_Dear Conference Organizer:_

_I am writing to withdraw the paper titled "The Comparative Forelimb Osteology and Biomechanics of Therapod vs. __**Homo Sapiens**__" from the Open Session of the BABAO Annual Conference 2011. The principal investigator, Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray, my graduate student, was recently killed while assisting the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation in a murder investigation; hence he will not be able to present his findings._

_Regards,_

_Dr. Temperance Brennan, Forensic Anthropologist  
>Forensic Sciences Department<br>Jeffersonian Institute  
>Washington, D.C.<em>

* * *

><p>"Booth? What are you doing?"<p>

Booth looked over his shoulder towards the doorway as Brennan walked into her office. "I'm uhhh… I'm uhhh… I'm reading this letter you were writing. I was waiting for you, and I saw something open on your desktop. I thought maybe I could sneak a peek at your next novel."

Brennan pushed the lid of the laptop closed but she didn't look at Booth. "Your explanation might be more acceptable if you at least managed to look contrite, instead of just blushing."

"Good thing I didn't say I was sorry then…. Bones, why are you withdrawing Vincent's paper from the conference?"

"He's dead, Booth. He can't present the paper. Besides, what would be the point? The topic was … whimsical. No one else is going to pursue it."

"But you thought the paper was good enough to submit in the first place. And that day in the diner, you both seemed pretty excited when the fake dinosaur arrived."

"Skeletal replica, Booth. It was a skeletal replica. It was very real."

"You know what, Bones? There's something I have check on. I'll see you for lunch, OK?"

* * *

><p>"Did you find what you were looking for after you left this morning?" Brennan pushed the nearly untouched salad around on her plate. Tiny wavelets of olive oil and lemon juice washed over the rim as Booth paused before answering.<p>

"I think so. But I won't know for sure until I see it this afternoon. I'll know more tonight." He waited until she looked up to meet his eyes. "Have you given any thought about how you're going to present Vincent's paper?"

"I told you, Booth – I'm not going to Scotland. I'm withdrawing the paper. They're not my ideas…"

"You mean you don't agree with Nigel-Murray?"

"No! I mean I do. I did…" Brennan gave up the pretense of eating and set her fork down on the edge of the plate. "I mean I don't want to take credit for his work."

"Well, Bones, if you don't present his paper he won't get credit either." Booth pushed back his chair to stand. "See you at dinner, OK?"

* * *

><p>Brennan heard Booth's keys in the hall as he entered the apartment. He moved quietly around the front entryway as he stowed his gun in the gun safe and replaced the row of false books. She waited at the kitchen table until Booth came up behind her. "Anything special in mind for dinner?" he murmured in her ear as he placed a DVD on the tabletop. Straightening, he began pulling off his tie as he walked towards the bedroom. "I'm going to change and then we can get something to eat."<p>

Brennan looked at the empty document she'd started after lunch as she waited for the DVD to load; then she opened the only file on the disc. For a few moments she looked at the timestamp; then she focused on the grainy black-and white footage from the overhead security cameras. _Hodgins and Cam and Vincent conversing on the platform._ _A smiling Booth sweeping into the lab with a wave as Vincent strutted around the platform gesturing with tiny therapod forearms while Hodgins and Cam smiled in the background. Hodgins and Vincent arm wrestling, struggling to avoid a stalemate, until the tiny right forearm disarticulated from the scapula_. As Brennan watched Vincent's jubilant face she could read his lips as he crowed "Dr. Brennan is going to love this. We're going to be the toast of the conference!"

Then Brennan opened the letter she had written this morning and began to edit the contents. She saved the document and then went to start dinner.

* * *

><p><em>Organizer, BRITISH ASSOCIATION FOR BIOLOGICAL ANTHROPOLOGY AND OSTEOARCHAEOLOGY Annual Conference 2011<br>School of History, Classics, and Archaeology  
>University of Edinburgh<br>Edinburgh, City of Edinburgh EH16 5AY Scotland_

_Dear Conference Organizer:_

_I am writing to advise you that I will present the paper titled "The Comparative Forelimb Osteology and Biomechanics of Therapod vs. __**Homo Sapiens**__" at the Open Session of the BABAO Annual Conference 2011. Despite the death of the principal investigator while assisting the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation with a murder investigation, Mr. Nigel-Murray left abundant evidence to illustrate theory and support his findings._

_Regards,_

_Dr. Temperance Brennan, Forensic Anthropologist  
>Forensic Sciences Department<br>Jeffersonian Institute  
>Washington, D.C.<em>


End file.
